Redwall Royale
by Penblade the Bard
Summary: A terrible blizzard forces the inhabitants of Redwall to stay inside the entire winter, bored out of their skulls, until a childish rivalry between the dibbun Mattimeo and Basil Stag Hare causes a fight to break out. A food fight! OC alert by the way.
1. Chapter 1

Redwall Royale

It was a quiet night in Redwall. Quiet and "So... flippin'... BORING!" as Basil put it. A blizzard had been going strong for half the winter, so no one could go outside. The gatehouse was buried completely in snow, so there were no stories, except for those everyone already knew, and those were no good. But it had been a good growing season in the seasons before winter so there was plenty of food for all. At first there had been great merriment amongst the dibbuns at the prospect of so few chores, but then it had dawned on them that there was nothing to do, (not even chores).

Nowhere was the feeling of boredom more prominent than in great hall at meal times. The Redwallers would trudge in from the various places they had been whiling away that day; squirrels, moles, mice, hedgehogs, otters, shrews, badgers, hares, sparrows; and sit down in silent subdued rows, eat their food, and trudge out again to await the next meal. Everyone felt the feeling of subdued depression, but none more than Basil, Log-a-Log, leader of the Guosim shrews, Skipper,leader of the otters, Dusk, and Penblade. Penblade and Dusk were two wanderers; a great big badger, Penblade, and a small black furred mouse, Dusk. They had stopped at Redwall for one day to resupply their cart, a small boat with waggon wheels, and to rest. The next day, they had awoken to a solid wall of stinging snow outside. Basil naturally wanted to stretch his legs, Log-a-Log was loathe to stay in any one place for long, and with no shrimp or hotroot in the larders, Skipper was more depressed than a toad with a tummyache.

One day, near the end of winter, everyone came in for supper as usual. Abbot Mordalfus sat in his big wooden abbot's chair at the head of the table, with Constance, the abbey's badgermum, Basil, the resident hare, foremole, Dusk, and Penblade on his right, and Matthias, the abbey champion, Cornflower, Matthias's beautiful wife along with their tiny son Mattimeo, Skipper, Log-a-Log, and Ambrose Spike, the cellarhog, on his left. Basil looked at his food for a moment then down the table at all the other abbeybeasts. He sighed fitfully.

"Hhhhhhhhuuuuuuuh, Downright depressin' isn't it old chap."

Foremole nodded his velvety head sagely, "Hurr, you'd foind mo'er cheer outsoid in 'e snow 'an in 'ere."

"The problem is that very snow, but there's not to be done about that," Constance said, munching halfheartedly at a scone, "Almost makes you, dare I say it, Miss Cluny." Mordalfus blinked several times in surprise, "Almost," Constance repeated, finishing the scone.

"Agreed," Matthias said from across the table, "At least when he was here, we all had something to do."

"Nuffin' t' do," little Mattimeo said from his seat on his mother's lap, poking a flan dejectedly, "Nuffin' but eat an' sweep."

"Little chap's right ya' know. Nothin' to bally well do but cream some creams and dream some dreams, wot," Basil stared, uninterested, at his plate, "and I don't know about you lot but I've eaten about as much as I can stand for one winter, wot."

There was a small gasp of mock terror from those within hearing range of the hare's remark then Mattimeo grinned mischiveously. He crawled out of his mother's lap, onto the table, walked to the middle of the table, coughed loudly to get everyone's attention, and shouted, "I must be dweaming," there was a whisper of confusion, then, as explanation, Mattimeo pointed a tiny paw at Basil and shouted again, "Mista' Basil says he's full."

Amidst the general laughter that followed, Basil flattened his ears and sank lower into his seat, in an attempt to escape notice, "Little villin', takin' a body's secret shame and shoutin' it all over Mossflower and beyond," he muttered darkly to himself as Mattimeo swaggered back along the table and plopped back into his mother's lap, who attempted to scold him while at the same time trying to hold in a fit of laughter.

"Heehee, Matti! Haha, that was very, heeheehee, very mean of, haha, of you, hehehe." Finally she broke down and doubled over, laughing with Matthias.

"Hmph! Runs in the bloomin' family I see. Flippin' bad form for a pair of upstanding beasts such as y'selves. Flippin' bad indeed"

**Time Passes...**


	2. Chapter 2

The next night at dinner everybeast was in slightly better humor thanks to the combined efforts of Mattimeo, normally just called Matti, and Friar Hugo. The night before, Matthias had jokingly challenged the friar to try and create as much cheer as his son had. hearing this praise Matti walked a little taller, but Hugo took the challenge seriously and all the next day had worked on a huge cake to serve that night after dinner. On the other paw, after appearing at breakfast to hushed giggles and chuckles, Basil had seemingly disappeared off the face of the planet.

That night abbot Mordalfus had decided to "give up my chair to someone more deserving," as he put it, so that night it was Matti sitting proudly in the chair, along with Tim and Tess Churchmouse, Matti's biggest fans at the moment, for whom there was ample room in the big chair. To their right was, in order, Abbot Mordalfus, Constance, Mr. and Mrs. Churchmouse, and Skipper, and on their left was Cornflower, Matthias, Friar Hugo, Dusk, Penblade, and Log-a-Log.

They all laughed fitfully as a seemingly endless train of dibbuns came to offer small gifts to Matti who, in their eyes, was elevated to some sort of royalty. By the time the last one had gone by, Matti, Tess, and Tim had a sizable treasure trove of, what a dibbun would consider, valuable items. They had a pile of about twenty candied chestnuts, several lengths of colorful cloth, a few chunks of crystal, a bright red headband from Log-a-Log which Matti wore, an eye-patch from Skipper which Tim wore, and a crown of soft feathers from queen Warbeak which Tess wore.

Matthias turned, smiling, to friar Hugo, "So, friar, how's that cheer coming along?"

"It's cooling in the kitchen as we speak," Hugo said smugly, "I'v packed it so full of honey, and cream, and fruit that... well... We'll just see who out-cheers whom after dinner I suppose."

Matti giggled at how seriously Hugo was taking the challenge then gave a small start. He leaned down and looked under the table. When he came back up he was grinning from ear to ear, "I tink' I found mista' Basil," he said indicating under the table.

They all looked disbelieving for a moment.

"No."

"H'immposible."

"Hurr, 'e wouldn't."

"Filthy tyrant," the muttered words were clearly audible, and they came from beneath the table.

Constance reached under the table and grabbed Basil's ears, "Shame on you Basil, what kind of example are you setting. Come out this instant." she dragged him out by the ears and sat him down next to her.

He shrank down into his seat, trying to hide behind the badgermum's bulk. "Rotten bounder, ruinin' a chap's spotless record, wot. I almost wish someone would attack us, just so I could get bally sentry duty an' be left alone for half a tick."

Matti considered this for a moment, then grinned broadly. picking up a scone slathered in honey he hurled it at the unsuspecting hare. after a gasp of shock, everyone fell about laughing. Basil fairly shook with indignant rage as the scone fell off his face and trails of honey flowed down his cheeks, then his face took on an expression of business. Scooping the cream off a trifle he turned to look at Matti, no longer trying to hide behind Constance. He pointed an accusing paw at the young mouse. "This, my barbaric little friend, means war." then he slowly and deliberately smeared the cream all over Matti's face.

Basil, Constance, and Tim's parents ducked as he hurled a pawfull of pudding at where Basil's head had been; trying and avenge his friend. The pudding flew over their ears and hit Skipper in the side of his face. Skipper had had his eyes closed when it hit him so his first impression was that it had been the big chuckling badger across from him who'd thrown it.

As Penblade was hit with a flan from Skipper, Dusk, who loved any and all types of fun, began flinging food willy-nilly. Soon the entire room had joined in. Food flew everywhere in a malestrom of edible projectiles as creatures dove for the cover of the halls, other creatures dove to chase them, and the sparrows dropped parcels of food from the eaves. Above the din of shouting and splatting, three tiny voices could be heard sounding a call to arms. Matti, Tim, and Tess were rallying the dibbuns to them. Soon they had a considerably large army of dibbuns surrounding them, flinging food like trained archers.

From his vantage point, behind the cover of a massive pillar in the corner, along with Cornflower, Hugo, Basil, and Dusk, Matthias saw his son squeaking out orders to the mob of dibbuns around him. He laughed loudly and called for Cornflower to come and see, "Cornflower, come see our son the general." She crept over and laughed with him as the otters and shrews, led by Skipper and Log-a-Log, fought their way to Matti's side, gave a quick salute, and joined the mob of dibbuns, firing food from their slings.

"Hey, wait a moment! Where are they going?" Friar Hugo asked, watching the small army walk backwards, into a hallway, still firing.

Matthias thought for a moment, "Looks like they're headed for the kitchens."

Hugo screamed, "MY CAKE!"

Instantly Basil and Dusk were at his side.

"The cake! Not the bally cake sah, say it ain't so!"

"Please friar, if their are vittles in danger I would have you tell me."

Hugo gulped in a few deep breaths then explained to the oddly colored mouse. Dusk took a step back, puffed out his chest, and saluted smartly, "Dusk and Basil, yours to command sir."

Basil did likewise, "You better bally believe it chap. You two, stop all that laughin' wot! A cake's in danger and all you do is laugh about it! Bad form wot!" Matthias and Cornflower were doubled over holding each other, and laughing so much tears came to their eyes and it was hard to breathe.

Hugo laughed dryly as he shook his new allies paws, "Ha! 'The mice, the hare, and the dibbun king', this'll be a tale for next winter no mistake. Well, come on mates, no time to waste. Now I believe, aw yes, this hallway should be a shortcut to the kitchens."

Basil took the lead, rushing ahead so Hugo and Dusk had to sprint to catch up.

Across Great Hall, in another corner, hid a chuckling abbot, a howling cellarkeeper, a silent badger, and a not so silent badger.

"Father abbot stop laughing, this is serious! We need to stop this before something breaks or someone gets hurt." Suddenly Constance was plastered with a soft wedge of yellow cheese thrown by Ambrose Spike.

"HAHAHA! Come on Pen-me-blade, let's see what havoc we can reek from the cellars, heeheehee." Giggling wickedly, the pair dashed off, dodging flying food, to the cellars.

Constance slowly turned, cheese all over her face, to the father abbot, who was still laughing, "This is a dark day for Redwall." she said flatly, and sat down against the wall. In response, abbot Mordalfus took some of the cheese off her face and tossed it at John Churchmouse.

Time Passes (da-da, da-daaaaaa)


	3. Chapter 3

"Hurry it up Hugo, cake's in danger, wot, musn't dally." In all the excitement, Hugo, Basil, and Dusk had gotten somewhat, er, turned around.

"Well, uh, about that..."

"What is it sah? Spit it out already!"

"Well, you know hehe," Hugo laughed nervously under Basils serious gaze, "I usually spend all my time in the kitchens, never had any real reason to come to this part of the abbey before."

"We're lost, arn't we?" Dusk guessed.

"Uh, I wouldn't say LOST... per say."

"Hows about jolly well hopelessly lost."

Hugo hung his head was silent for a moment, "Yeah, pretty much."

Basil sighed loudly with exasperation, rolling his eyes heavenward, and Dusk put an arm around the somewhat embarrassed friar. Then, from a turn in the hall up ahead, there came shouts and Whoops of excitement. Suddenly, Ambrose Spike rolled around the corner, howling with laughter, and the massive grinning figure of Penblade trundled into view backwards. They wore pots on their heads as helmets and carried long wooden spoons as weapons. Penblade carried a large satchel, filled with food, and hefted the lid of a large barrel as a shield. He ducked his head and raised the shield as a barrage of food came at them. When the barrage stopped, Penblade reached into his satchel and heaved two pies at the assailants.

"Hoho! Got em'!" Ambrose yelled peaking around the corner, "Hahahahaha! See em' runnin' scared now?"

Basil and Hugo stared, wide eyed and slack jawed, at the mighty figure Penblade cut. "Yep. Good ol' Penblade's gotten us two out o' many a scrape just by bein' seen, that he has," Dusk said matter-of-factly.

Ambrose turned and noticed the three for the first time, "Ho, look Penblade, company!" Penblade turned and smiled even wider, if such a feat was possible. "Headed for the cellars are you?" Ambrose asked.

"Huh?" Hugo wondered.

"Well, just make sure not to take any of my good brews."

"What?"

"Of course, now I recognize this hallway. Come on buckos, this way to the good ol' kitchens from the cellars wot wot."

"The kitchens, you say," Ambrose Spike stroked his chin thoughtfully while Penblade mimicked him, stroking his own massive chin, "That gives me an idea. Come on Pen, back to the cellars!" The two parties separated as quickly as they had met, Hugo, Basil, and Dusk going off to the kitchens to try and save the friar's cake, while Ambrose Spike and Penblade went back to the cellars to commence the cellarkeeper's scheme.

Time Passes (once again)

But it turned out it was too late for the three stooges to save the cake. The dibbuns, otters, and Guosim had gotten to the cake first and dug in, defensively speaking. With the combined tactical prowess of both Skipper and Log-a-Log, the cake was as well defended as a fortress. And the cake was certainly worth the effort. It was as big as a grown otter and covered in white frosting and candied fruits. They had made barricades with sacks of food, which doubled as ammunition, at the entrance to the kitchens. They had placed three dibbuns, an otter, and a shrew at it. This setup had successfully turned back all comers, but they had never faced a foe so single-mindedly determined to drive them out.

When they first turned the last corner to the last ten feet of hallway before the kitchens (the fighting had gotten suspiciously quiet the closer they got I might add), they were hit with gusto by Skipper, Log-a-Log, Tim, Tess, and the red banded baron himself, Mattimeo, and driven back around the corner. After a few minutes, a pair of long ears appeared as Basil took a quick look around the corner.

When Basil pulled his head back, it was awhile before he was able to talk legibly, because Matti, having faster reflexes than the others, had nailed him in the mouth with an apple. "Mmmmmmmmmmmmffffffffffffffff! Fiwfy wuffiansh! Coomfahdad fizzlers!," with some effort he yanked the apple, a big russet one, out of his mouth and repeated his verbal assault, "Filthy ruffians! Confounded chiselers! River rompers! Log wallopers! Tiny tyrants!" His face turned beet red as he vented all his frustration, boredom, and annoyance in one long, seemingly endless tirade, "Mud faced, flat tailed, pin headed, rat spawn! Pilfering, plundering, plotting, pit-hogs! Dozey chopped dimwits! Maniacal, malicious, flat footed, flounders!" Soon Hugo and Dusk began to blush as well and covered their ears, while the otters and shrews tried to cover the ears of the all too attentive dibbuns, who marveled at their elder's vast store of foul language.

Basil's tirade (eventually) petered out into a (somewhat) friendly back and forth exchange of insults, in which the dibbuns had much fun using their new found vocabulary (a lot).

"Munch, Frog faces!" Basil called around a mouth-full of apple.

"Dody hops!" a Tim called out.

"Tail whacker!"

"Hurr, flunder!" a young mole yelled.

"Small stuff!"

"Sail ears!" Skipper shouted.

"Barrel belly!" Log-a-Log added.

"Sail ears, barrel belly! You'll pay for that sahs!"

As Basil tossed a particularly barbed tongue exercise out there, Hugo pounded his head against the wall and Dusk lay on his back so his feet rested against the wall a few feet up, both of them trying to think up a plan on how to rescue the fair pastry from the dibbun king, (don't laugh. Weirder things have happened in that abbey).

Suddenly the friar stood up and whispered excitedly, "I've got it. I've got it!"

Time Passes (whoop-dee-flippin-do)


	4. Chapter 4

Hugo plopped down with a thud as peels of laughter emanated from around the corner. He was absolutely covered, from ears to tail tip, in thick, sticky bread dough. "I didn't got it." he muttered, as Basil and Dusk began to tear clumps of dough from his fur.

"I should imagine not!"

They all looked down the hall in surprise to see that, apparently, a huge barrel that nearly took up all the space in the hall was talking to them.

"Uuuuuuuuh?" they all chorused in unison.

"Oh right, sorry." there was some grunting as one of the barrels, for they could see there was one behind the first one, moved to the side and Ambrose Spike squeezed out.

"Beggin' yah pardon sah but, what's with the flippin' big barrels? Tryin' t' squish someone?" Basil guessed.

"Hoho, said I had an idea, didn't I. Now friar," he put an arm around Hugo, leaned in, and whispered secretively, "is that cake o' yours sittin'on a table, nice an' high off the ground?"

"Yes?" Hugo said tentatively, a little confused.

"An' there's only one entrance to the kitchens right?"

"Yes?" Hugo said again.

"Good. Okay, here's what we do..."

**(guess what?) Time Passes**

Matti sat on top of the barricade erected in the entrance to the kitchen and yawned. The original excitement of taking over the kitchens had worn off and now he was fairly bored. The only thing that kept him and the others, that includes the otters and shrews, from eating the cake was Skipper and Log-a-Log, who said they couldn't enjoy the spoils of war until Hugo surrendered. Hugo and his allies had made numerous systematic attacks, keeping them on their toes.

Suddenly a paw thrust around the corner and waved a white handkerchief frantically. Matti pulled on Skipper's fur, "Does dis mean they suwwendewing? Can we 'ave d' cake now?" he asked pointedly.

"Hehehe, sorry mate, that jus' means they wanna parley." Skipper explained to the frowning youth as he rubbed Matti's head, "Hmm, wonder what they wanna talk about."

They didn't have long to wait, because at that moment, Hugo, Dusk, and Basil walked out to stand defiantly in the middle of the hallway. All three had their arms crossed over their chests, frowning at the furred terrorists. Matti stuck out his tongue and rolled his eyes comically, making Basil scowl fiercely.

"Ho there Hugo, what be you wantin?" Skipper called out, with Matti on his shoulders and Tim and Tess on either side.

"We'd like to parley," ya' filthy vermin, Basil added under his breath. Dusk kicked him warningly as Skipper replied. "Parley ya say? Fine. What'd you want to say?"

Hugo cleared his throat, "We have a list of surrender conditions here that I would advise you listen to. 1. you will leave my kitchens immediately and never EVER, enter them again. 2. you will clean up all the food in the abbey on pain of rations. And 3. you will not get a single crumb of MY cake. Agreed?"

Log-a-Log laughed, "E' must be joking."

"Shove off friar! This is our port now!" Skipper called out smugly.

Hugo sighed and shook his head, like he was disappointed in them, "Very well. Bring them out Ambrose!"

The dibbun, otter, shrew alliance watched in awe and more than a little confusion as Ambrose Spike and Penblade rolled the two massive barrels out so they stood side by side in the hall, taking up all the room. They quickly started to seal off the spaces between the walls and the barrels with the thick dough they had pulled off the they were finished, all five of them climbed up on top of the barrels. Bridging the gap between the barrels with a sturdy upturned bench, they made some scaffolding to sit on. "Last chance." Hugo called flatly.

"NEVER!" Matti hollered before anyone could stop him.

In the blink of an eye, both Ambrose and Penblade held mallets and iron wedges in their paws. The split second before the two rammed the wedges into the barrels, an otter in the kitchen realized what was about to happen, and screamed "GREAT SEASONS!", dropped his sling, and scrambled for all he was worth up a cabinet.

With a deafening WHAM the wedges were driven home and two twin jets of unnaturally pale october ale burst forth.

**_WHAM!_**

As the front timbers of the barrels splintered under the assault more ale poured forth in a veritable tsunami and washed over the barricade. Otters, shrews, and dibbuns were knocked flat on the floor by the tremendous force of the wave. Within seconds, the floor of the kitchen was under at least two feet of light brown ale. Hugo grimaced at what he had been forced to do as his four friends laughed and laughed. The shrews, dibbuns, and otters looked like a big flock of birds, perched in the cupboards and shelves of the kitchen.

One otter, who had been knocked down and momentarily dazed, rose from the pool of ale, coughing, spitting, retching and clenching his throat. "Bleh! Pwah! Pluh! What in the name o' rudders an' riggin' is wrong wi' this stuff?"

Ambrose stopped laughing for a moment and replied with an unconcerned wave of his paw, "Oh, that stuff didn't taste at all right when I tried it. Too thin and bitter for any beast more civilized than a rat. It's been sitting in my cellars since... hm, now that I think of it, I can't remember how long it's been down there," he leaned forward and his next words made even the sad friar smile amidst the roars of laughter, "I think I saw a picture of it on Martin's tapestry."

Suddenly their laughter was replaced by the dibbun's screaming. To the horror, more surprised fascination in the five's case, of all, the complaining otter's fur had begun to grow steadily paler. He was now freshly-cleaned-sheets white, screaming along with the terrified dibbuns, and thrashing about in the ale. "MY FUUUURRRR! YOU DIABOLICAL MONSTERS! WHAT HAVE YOU DONE TO MEEEEEEE?"

"No more than you deserve yah nasty blighters!" Basil yelled as all the beasts in the kitchen began to turn a ghostly white due to their exposure to the tainted ale.

All save two.

Basil's jaw hung slack in shock and Dusk whispered in flat disbelief, "No."

Skipper, who had managed to stay standing when the wave hit, was white only up to his chest; his shoulders and head were still a healthy brown, and sitting on Skipper's shoulders...


	5. Chapter 5

"Nyah, nyah! The wabbit missed me!" the seemingly unthwartable Mattimeo called from his perch, high and dry on Skipper's shoulders.

Basil clapped his jaw shut and leaned over. Cupping a paw to his mouth, he whispered secretly to Penblade. Penblade nodded his understanding and Basil went back to his previous position, folding his paws in front of him. There was stillness for a moment.

"NOW!" Basil yelled. Penblade leapt down into the sea of ale with a huge splash and Basil hopped onto his back. Matti screamed and Skipper clambered on top of a table as Penblade barreled down on them as if the ale wasn't even there, with Basil riding on his back like some deranged civil war cavalryman. They plowed through the remains of the barricade and Basil jumped from Penblade's back onto the table. He and Skipper grabbed a loaf of long, thin, hard bread each from the table and began to fight fiercely as Penblade growled dangerously at any beast trying to get close enough to interfere with the battle. They swung, ducked, parried, blocked, stabbed, and spun ferociously, Matti clinging to Skipper's fur and Basil bent to the point of madness on revenge against the offending mouse.

"You'll pay for my reputation you contemptuous cad!" Basil roared vengefully. With a swipe to the paws, he knocked Skipper on his back, his upper half hanging over the edge of the table. Basil leapt on top of him and they got into a shoving match. They were like a white knight and a brown knight fighting gallantly on the rim of a bottomless pit. Matti squealed in terror as he hung over the ocean of sinister liquid. Basil leaned past Skipper's head and whispered in Matti's ear, "Pay with your fur YOWCH!" he screamed and jumped off the Skipper when Matti bit his ear sharply. The slightly surprised hare touched a paw to his ear then held it in front of his face. he sighed with relief that there was no blood then looked back at Skipper, who had gotten back on his feet and taken up a fighting stance. With a snarl and a howl Basil pounced on him and the battle continued.

They battled for hours, each time one got the upper paw, the other played some trick or other and the battle went on. Once Penblade tried to get them to stop but he almost got a loaf in the eye for his troubles, and the fact that the pair could turn back a full grown badger dissuaded any further efforts. What happened next is a bit of a mystery. The dibbuns all say the "evil bunny" lifted Skipper over his head and threw both otter and dibbun into the terrible ale with an awful laugh, but we all know how little ones exaggerate. The story the shrews and otters tell is somewhat the same, but there are still more differences between their two stories. The otters spin it so it sounds like Skipper beat Basil and was going to shove him in when Hugo leapt from the ale and battled Skipper for almost half a day until he wore him down and defeated him. The shrews tell the tale in such a way that, bizarrely, Basil was the wronged party and just before Skipper shoved him in, a gallant shrew jumped up and broke Basil's dropped bread loaf on Skipper's head, stunning him just long enough for Basil to knock Skipper off the table. All three are wrong though. To get the real story, you have to ask either Ambrose, Hugo, or Basil, who, to this day, has miraculously never taken credit for the victory, at least not all of it.

After several hours the battle began to lean in favor of the more muscular Skipper. Basil was mostly blocking now and his earlier rage was replaced by a fear of being further humiliated. Gradually, Basil began to tire, until they finally fell to the ground and Basil lay helpless on the tables edge with Skipper and Matti towering over him. He raised his loaf feebly but Skipper easily wrenched it out of his paws and threw it behind him. Skipper knelt on top of Basil, kneeing him in the chest, "Sorry about this mate, but, personally, I think you'll look good in white. Hahaha!" Skipper stood again and shouted to the flock of perched dibbuns, otters, and shrews, "Cake for all!" They all cheered as Skipper placed a footpaw on Basil's ample stomach and prepared to kick him in. Then, in a surprising turn of events, a white shape appeared next to Skipper, grabbed Basil's loaf, and slammed it over the top of Skipper's head. Skipper stared blankly ahead then slowly turned to face his assailant. Friar Hugo stood there, completely white, dripping wet, and holding a broken loaf of bread. Apparently, Hugo had seen Basil weakening and had silently slipped into the ale and swum all the way to the table, climbed up, and landed a stunning blow on Skipper.

Skipper stared for a moment then his eyes rolled back in his scull, he staggered backward, and toppled into the ale like a tree being felled by a woodsman, with a small, wide eyed, screaming owl in its upper branches. He landed with a tremendous slash, sending up another tidal wave. Even before the ale had settled Skipper's loyal crew was jumping down to help their leader. They all gathered around him and the sullen little marshmallow riding on his stomach, Mattimeo. He lay floating on his back, completely limp, with a large lump growing on his head. They examined him and started to chatter in awe all at once, most of the awe directed at the friar.

"Blow me down. E's out cold!"

"That friars got one 'ell of a Punch."

"I can't remem'er t' last time anybeast bested ol' Skip."

"At's 'cause no one ever 'as."

"Shave me down an' call me a fish, I wouldn't wanna get THAT mouse mad."

The reverent muttering continued as Hugo knelt down and hauled Basil to his feet. The battle over, Basil returned to his usual good humor.

"Ha! Fantastic and fabulous friar, surly stupendous strategist, and bally boxer to boot! If I didn't know better, I'd say you were a hare me friend. Jolly good whack, that one was by the way. Almost had me scared there, wot wot."

Suddenly, the pair was struck by a square of brilliant, blinding light reflecting off the surface of the indoor lake. "Blinkin' blazes!" Basil cried in shock as he and Hugo drew back and flung their paws across their eyes, "What in the flippin' fur is that!"

"The sun!" a shrew near the window screamed in elation, setting off a chain reaction.

"It's the sun!"

"The storm is over!"

"Huzzah!"

"Is it true?"

"It is! We're FREEEEEEEE!"

"Not by a long shot!" Hugo bellowed over the din. Everyone turned to look at the friar, who was standing on the table alongside Basil and Ambrose, with Dusk and Penblade below in the sea. "You're not going anywhere until you clean up my kitchen."

There was silence for a moment, then Log-a-Log stepped forward laughing, "Good one friar! Now if you'll excuse us, we'll be going now." He started to walk toward the hallway when Penblade picked him up off the ground and pressed his face up to the shrew's. He growled like thunder right into Log-a-Log's face. Dusk had begun to call him Snowball and he was a bit, irritated. Log-a-Log shrank back fearfully and Penblade tossed him toward the other shrews. Everyone who had begun walking toward the exit sprinted back as the fearless Log-a-Log hid shamelessly behind the other Guosim shrews. The pale furred group was still for a moment, all eyes riveted on the aggravated badger. Penblade turned his head slightly and smiled sweetly, easing the tension somewhat, then scowled furiously and roared loud enough to put doomsday to shame.

Sampetra: Shorgo the rat raised his head sharply as he sat roasting a fish over the fire. Goola, his mate, looked at him quizzically, "What?"

"Nothing."

"No, what?"

"Well," he looked apprehensively behind him (He didn't know why), "I thought I heard a rock-slide, or thunder, or something."

"Pff," Goola said scornfully, "You're imagining things."

Redwall: Everybeast instantly sprang to work, scattering everywhere except near the seemingly supernatural badger. Dusk clapped him on the back, "Nice work Snowball." Penblade slowly turned his head to glare at the comparatively puny black mouse, who quickly scampered off to supervise a group of otters who had opened a window and started to bail out the kitchen floor.

**(DA, DADA-DA, DADA-DA, DADA-DA, DADA-DAAA, DAAAAAAAAAA! What? OH, sorry!) Time Passes**


	6. Chapter 6

It was nearly two weeks before anyone saw aught of the missing shrews, otters, and dibbuns. Friar Hugo had run the kitchen like a slave yard, allowing the dibbuns to sleep in the cupboards and closets but forcing the rest to sleep on the floor. They had cleaned and polished everything in the kitchen twice by the time they were let loose! Until then, whenever you went down to the kitchens, you were met by an impregnable wall of wood and dough. Creatures would walk right up to it and look up, marveling at its formidable awesomeness. By the time they WERE released, their fur had grown a little and the paleness was somewhat diminished. They were now the color of a properly toasted marshmallow. Basil and Matti had made up and were fast becoming good friends. Skipper had recovered from his bump on the head, but was never anywhere to be seen when a fresh batch of bread was finished for months after. To Constance's confusion, Log-a-Log avoided her like the plague for several weeks after and would jump to the ceiling whenever there was a storm with thunder.

Apparently, for the rest of Redwall, the food fight had ended and was cleaned up after only half an hour, whereas the creatures in the kitchen, being secluded from the rest of the abbey, had battled for almost twelve hours, plus the two weeks of cleanup. It was now the end of spring and Dusk and Penblade were leaving with the first southerly winds. They stood next to their ship/wagon on the path outside Redwall, shaking paws, shouting farewells, and generally being the center of attention.

Unwittingly, Hugo had predicted the future when he said "This'll be a tale for next winter and no mistake," for after the incident Penblade and Dusk, being the professional entertainers they were, had told, retold, reretold, and even reenacted, what they called, The Great Redwall Royale. Dusk had set the mood with his mandolin, Penblade had narrated, surprising all with his magnificent skill at speech-craft, and the dibbuns had acted as the cast. They would almost certainly NOT be bored when the next blizzard came around. Extricating himself from the mob of dibbuns hugging his legs, Penblade handed John Churchmouse A stack of papers. John took one look at it and burst out laughing.

"What is it John?" Abbot Mordalfus asked. John couldn't stop laughing so he just handed the abbot the stack. On its cover, written in elegant calligraphy, were the words...

_Redwall Royale_

_A historical reenactment of the greatest_

_battle to ever grace the kitchens of that_

_great house of freedom, Redwall._

**Written, By Penblade the Bard**

**Musical score, By Dusk the Alchemist**

Beneath it was a drawing of an otter in a black cape and armor with a dibbun wearing a red crown and purple silk habit riding on his shoulder, locked in eternal battle with a hare wearing a white cape and armor. They held long thin loaves of bread. Where the loaves crossed was a shower of sparks, but if one looked closer, they would see not sparks, but crumbs. They stood atop an elegant cake and below them was a bubbling brown lake with ghosts of shrews, otters, two mice, a badger, and a hedgehog reaching up toward the warriors. The whole thing, words and all, was surrounded by a border of various foods. Vines of grapes, olives, and pumpkins, branches of apples, pears, and peaches, bushels of nuts, beakers of ale, and piles of bread loaves.

Penblade bowed modestly as everybeast who could see the papers applauded loudly. Dusk, who was leaning against the waggon and clapping as well, pricked his ears at the sound of leaves being rustled by a strong wind. Jumping forward, he patted Penblade on the back and whispered in his ear. As Dusk climbed into the waggon and released the sail Penblade cleared his throat and drew himself up. The crowd grew silent in anticipation.

Penblade looked about him severely, "I have been at Redwall for Two seasons now, and based on my experiences, I have formulated this opinion," some of the creatures shifted uneasily under the badgers stern gaze. Suddenly He grinned broadly. Holding up a beaker of ale he shouted so all could hear him, "Ten-thousand vermin hoardes couldn't keep me from your door!" Amidst the gales of cheering, applauding, and laughter Penblade upended the beaker and drained it in one giant gulp. Just then, the wind picked up and the sail billowed dramatically. As the wagon started to creak forward, Penblade tossed the empty beaker into the crowd and turned sharply. Trotting forward he reached the waggon just before it sailed off south down the path. To the crowds delighted astonishment he grabbed a short rope trailing off the back of the landship and swung aboard in a wide arc.

Penblade and Dusk waved for a long time as their craft drifted south. When the cart was almost out of sight Basil, Hugo, Ambrose, and Skipper waved in unison up to the belltower. Queen Warbeak waved her wing in response. Turning to Tim, Tess, and Matti she chirped once and they hauled with a will on the ropes of the newly completed Matthias and Methuselah bells.

Bom!Boom!Gong!Boom!Bom!Boom!Gong!Boom!

As the massive brass bells rang forth across Mossflower, they seemed to beckon any weary traveler within a dozen miles to come, rest, eat, and drink. Hear and remember friend, because these words ring truer than any bell. If ever you are passing through Mossflower, you are always welcome, for the doors of Redwall abbey are open to any and all who seek shelter, food, or just a place to park your wagon for a few days (or more;)


End file.
